


Hazel Eyes and Butterflies

by orphan_account



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 07:20:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6461071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For Maurice, the best memer.</p></blockquote>





	Hazel Eyes and Butterflies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maurice the memer](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Maurice+the+memer).



\---

Nature’s first green is gold,

\---

Simon stumbled through the forest, he was dizzy and scared. This island, there was something wrong with it. Or maybe… 

“There’s something wrong with us….” Simon thought aloud. 

Simon’s thoughts went to before the island, back when it was just the choir at St. Thomas’s. Jack had always been… Simon shuddered as he remembered. Jack had always been…scary. He’d put on a show for the adults, acting the perfect choir boy. But once they were gone a certain cruelty had always lurked beneath the surface. Roger had always hung by Jack steadily, never saying much though, he was an unsolved puzzle. Bill, Robert and Harold were just lackeys, and the target of their taunts and teasing was always either him or little Henry. Simon had tried to be nice to Henry, but Henry wanted nothing to do with him. Nobody had ever wanted anything to do with him. Simon sighed, leaning against a palm trunk. He curled his arms around his knees, tears running down his face. 

“Simon?” Simon startled, quickly wiping his eyes. He looked up to see Maurice. Tall, broad and grinning, just as always. The only choir boy he had forgotten. Simon liked Maurice, he wasn’t mean like Jack or Roger, or a follower like Bill, Robert, Harold or Henry. Well, maybe he was a follower, but in a different way. He was always so happy, so cheerful, like nothing in the world could get him down. 

“Hi Maurice.” Simon replied, giving him a small smile. He hoped the other boy hadn’t seen him crying. 

“You alright?” Maurice asked, as he plopped down next to him, leaning back on the trunk. Simon nodded absently, looking at the boy beside him. He was tall, almost as tall as Jack, with tan skin and chestnut brown hair. Simon felt his heart involuntarily flutter. Maurice stared back at Simon, the small tan dark haired boy, with brilliant hazel eyes. Maurice shook his head, what was he talking with batty little Simon for anyway? 

 

“Maurice…” Simon started. Not knowing if he should bring up such a serious topic with the choir’s jokester. 

“Do you feel like things are, changing? With Jack I mean, it’s like something… bad is going to happen.” Simon spluttered out, watching Maurice anxiously. 

“You’re batty, you know that, Simon?” Maurice replied, but not unkindly. Simon was always saying such batty things, just the way he was. Maurice knew that, and he reached down to touch Simon’s soft hair. To both boy’s surprise, Simon felt himself lean into the touch. 

“Yeah… spend too much time with my head in the clouds, I guess.” Simon replied, at least that’s what his teachers have always said. “Get your head out of the clouds and focus!” 

 

“You should come hunting with us, Si, it’s great fun! Robert and me, we caught a pig all by ourselves yesterday. Not as big as Jack’s of course, but still…” Maurice babbled excitedly. 

Simon stared up at Maurice, bewildered. He couldn’t understand the lure of hunting and doubted he ever would.

Maurice must have seen his doubtful expression. 

“Well, maybe something else would distract you better.”  
Simon cocked his head and raised his eyebrows, clearly saying “Like what?” 

“How about…” Maurice, sighed slightly. Then burst into a wide grin. 

“Close your eyes Simon.”

“What, why?” 

“Just do it.” 

Simon closed his eyes, tensing up slightly. He almost jumped as he felt soft lips touching his. What the- was, was Maurice kissing him?! And was he…kissing back? A thousand thoughts rushed through Simon’s head and then suddenly, fell away. Simon’s mind went blank as he kissed Maurice, his troubles flying away as a feeling of peace washed over him. 

“How was that?” Simon opened his eyes, he hadn’t even realized Maurice had pulled away. Simon fought for words, but couldn’t find them. Their eyes locked. 

“You know Simon, you have beautiful eyes.” Maurice said, and they really were beautiful, not brown, not green, but a bright hazel. Before Simon could reply, the conch rang throughout the island, calling for an assembly. 

“C’mon” Maurice held out his hand to help Simon up, which he took gratefully, his whole body shaking. Maurice wrapped an arm around him as they walked towards the beach, and Simon found that for the first time on the island, he felt safe, and that for maybe the first time ever, he felt happy. 

\---

Her hardest hue to hold,

\---

Simon walked through the forest. Since that blissful day with Maurice, life had gone downhill again. Despite his attempts to get Maurice’s attention, he was always busy hunting, or hanging out with Robert. Simon felt a twinge of uncharacteristic anger, and quickly tried to push it aside. He kicked a rock half heartedly. He didn’t even feel like he was part of the choir anymore. He was the only one who didn’t hunt, much to Jack’s annoyance. It was Ralph who came to his defence, saying he was needed to help with the fire, shelters and littluns. 

Yet once the hunters had gone off, Ralph spent most of his time talking to Piggy. Which was fine, Simon didn’t mind Piggy, but Piggy seemed to mind him. He shot him annoyed glances whenever he tried to join in, so more often than not Simon found himself slinking away back into the forest. 

“There’s no place for me on this island…” Simon felt tears rolling down his cheeks, and found himself standing right in front of the tree where Maurice had kissed him. This time, there was nobody to make him stop his tears. Nobody to ruffle his hair, nobody to wrap their arm around him, nobody to kiss him. Loneliness swept over Simon like an ocean, he was drowning in it. 

He cried until he had no tears left to cry and leant against the tree, his head throbbing. Maybe one of his episodes were coming. And just as he expected, Simon’s mind went suddenly blank as he collapsed into the grass, hidden to all. 

When Simon came to, the sun was setting. He stood up, and almost fell down again. He looked up, and gasped. Right in front of him, were Maurice and Robert, their bodies and lips entwined, at the same tree. Their tree, his and Maurice’s. Hearing his gasp, the two sprang apart. Robert looked absolutely mortified, and Maurice, Simon couldn’t even look at Maurice. 

“Sorry.” Simon squeaked, and sprinted out of the woods as fast as his legs could carry him. His lips were dry and he was so thirsty, but he still managed to cry as he ran. How could he be so foolish to think Maurice cared about him? He had Robert, just as Ralph had Piggy, and Jack had Roger, and Simon had nobody. It had always been that way, and it always would be. 

\---

Her early leaf’s a flower but only so an hour,

\---

“The beast! It’s the beast!” Jack shrieked, and Maurice had charged with the rest of the boys. Stabbing at the beast, biting at it, kicking it, doing anything it took to kill it. The beast seemed to get gradually smaller, and slower, as they moved closer and closer to the shore. Finally the beast was still, and floating in the sea, unmoving. The group yelped in delight, running back across the beach and into the forest. Maurice looked around, everyone was a blur. His mind went to Simon. Little Simon who had seen him kissing Robert. Surely he understood, you didn’t just kiss one person, that’s not how it worked, right? It was like friends, you didn’t have only one. Maurice shook his head. Simon was fine. Probably having great fun at this party, and they just killed the beast, why wouldn’t he be happy?

“Come on Maurice!” It was Robert, tugging his elbow. Maurice let go of his worries and ran full speed, screaming at the top of his lungs with Robert. 

Back on the beach, Simon’s dead body floated out towards the open sea. 

\---

Then leaf subsides to leaf, so Eden sank to grief,

\---

Maurice lent against the tree, head in his hands. Tears poured down his face. They all realized what they did, but nobody spoke of it, nobody acknowledged it. Simon. They’d killed Simon. They killed the batty choir boy, murdered him. Memories rushed through him, of Simon singing, Simon fainting, Simon being batty, Simon kissing him. Maurice looked up toward the sun. 

“I’m sorry Simon.” He said allowed, though of course, Simon couldn’t hear him. Yet as he said it, a hazel winged butterfly flew past him, dancing in the sunlight. It landed on Maurice’s hand, and for some inexplicable reason, Maurice felt at peace. His tears subsided as he watched the little butterfly. The Hazel butterfly, the same colour as Simon’s eyes.

“It’s okay, Maurice. I forgive you.” Maurice whirled around as he heard Simon’s voice. 

“Simon?” He answered, but Simon was nowhere to be found. When he turned around, neither was the butterfly.

“Maurice?” Maurice looked up to see Robert, his pale skin covered in blood from the latest hunt, his dark hair hanging down, almost concealing his striking blue eyes. 

“Robert.” Maurice grinned, his face still wet from tears. He reached for Robert’s hand, and they walked hand in hand out of the forest, as the hazel butterfly watched from afar. 

\---

So dawn goes down to day, nothing gold can stay.

**Author's Note:**

> For Maurice, the best memer.


End file.
